


Mothers

by fwooshy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Divorced Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, F/M, Gen, Lily Luna Potter-centric, Mother-Daughter Relationship, bildungsroman, lily has many good friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fwooshy/pseuds/fwooshy
Summary: Lily Luna Potter knew that she was the spitting image of her mother. Lily knew that she was also the spitting image of her grandmother, the one that she would never meet, because she was dead.This a standalone from Lily's POV in the Dead Ringer verse. No need to read Dead Ringer for context at all!
Relationships: Lily Luna Potter & Ginny Weasley, Lily Luna Potter & Hugo Weasley, Lily Luna Potter/Lysander Scamander
Kudos: 8





	Mothers

Lily Luna Potter knew that she was the spitting image of her mother. She knew this because of a variety of reasons, none more irritating than because everyone told her. Even the papers couldn’t ease up on the comparisons to her mother.  _ Growing more and more beautiful by the years _ , they would say of her at the Yule Ball and then follow it immediately with  _ Beauty that nearly surpasses her mother’s _ .

Lily knew that she was also the spitting image of her grandmother, the one that she would never meet, because she was dead, although that didn’t stop Lily from thinking about her. Lily thought about her dead grandmother most Christmases when she was younger, when she’d lie awake in her mum’s old room at the Burrow with Rose already asleep beside her. She’d always been painfully envious of Rose. Rose still had both of her grandmums. She didn’t have to wonder.

They said Lily Evans had red hair too, and green eyes. They never specified on the freckles, but more often than not freckles came with the red hair in a packaged set, so Lily gave her freckles too. What she always ended up imagining was some sort of stretched out, thinner version of Grandmum Molly, with long, straight hair instead of short and curly. But Grandmum Molly’s hair was permed, so who’s to say Lily Evans Potter couldn’t have cut her hair and curled it the same? Then her two grandmothers would look like sisters.

It didn’t matter anyway. Grandmother (Lily always thought of the dead one as Grandmother, never Grandmum) was dead, and Lily would never know her, no matter how many times she saw her in her mind.

When Lily got older she thought it was definitely weird how her dad had basically married his mother.

“Shut up,” Albus said over roasted chicken and carrots, “That’s disgusting, Lily.”

“I  _ know _ ,” she’d said, “That’s the  _ point _ . And  _ you _ shut up, you’re not even supposed to be eating at the Gryffindor table. Back me up, Jamie.”

James was looking off at the Slytherin table. Lily followed his eyes to Scorpius. Albus was looking too now, his mouth thinned into a line. Lily thought the three of them probably got in a fight or something. Hell if she knew. They were always leaving her out.

She turned to Rose. “How come  _ you _ didn’t get the Lily Evans aesthetic?”

Rose said, “'Cos my red hair is curly, and I’m literally half black, I’ve already  _ told _ you, Lily,” and went back to her book.

Lily sighed. A table of her relatives and still no one  _ understood _ . “You guys suck,” she declared, standing up. She’d go eat out on the grounds and talk to the wind, it wasn’t like they were listening to her anyway. Plus she already knew the other side’s argument. They’d say that it wasn’t like her dad could even subconsciously go for someone like his mother because he’d never known her. Grandmother could’ve had a high-pitched, squeaky voice. She could’ve had an awful tendency to laugh too loud at fart jokes, something her mother would  _ never _ condone. Who knew. Probably nobody, Lily wouldn’t be surprised if everyone who used to know her was as dead as she was.

When seventh year finally rolled around, Lily started thinking that maybe she’d been hit with the Lily Evans curse where everyone spoke of you but no one knew you at all. She told this to Teddy, who said she was ridiculous.

“Aren’t you literally going on a date after this,” he snorted.

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging. She shoved a couple of chips in her mouth and talked around them. “It’s not like he knows me. When they see me they all think they’re getting my mother. They all think I’m going to be spunky and free-spirited and good at Quidditch, ‘cos they all read the damn Skeeter book. You know, people  _ still _ joke about how I’m going to Bat-Bogey them? I’ve literally never cast that before in my  _ life _ , I mean  _ I _ don’t go around impressing guys by cursing them like my mother apparently did.”

“You  _ are _ good at Quidditch,” Teddy said, looking amused.

“God, Teddy, that’s not the  _ point _ .”

Teddy chuckled. “I know, Lils.” He dropped his head onto his chin, looking thoughtful. “Is it so terrible, to resemble your mum?”

“Ugh,  _ yes _ ,” Lily whined. She was in the middle of a month-long letter-a-day fight with her mum. She sent the owl every night when she knew her mother was already asleep, just so the owl would wake her up. 

Lily chewed on her lip. “We’ve been arguing,” she confessed. “She wants me to play for the Harpies as she did.”

“But you don’t want to.”

Lily sighed, leaning back on the booth. “No, I don’t. And then she said I was going to ruin my life if I continued rebelling like this. Like the only reason why I don’t want to play Quidditch was 'cos she’d done it. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It was  _ a _ reason. But it wasn’t the  _ only _ reason.”

“What do you want to do instead?”

“I was thinking of applying for the Unspeakables. I did pretty well on the O.W.L.s and I’m putting in time on my N.E.W.T.’s so I figure I might as well use it.” She looked anxiously at Teddy. It was the first time she’d told anyone of her actual plans. Her mother only knew that she didn’t want to play Quidditch.

“That sounds great, Lils,” Teddy said, which was honestly more or less what Lily expected from him. He was just  _ so _ nice. And then he added, “So what’s the problem?”

This was the part Lily didn’t want to talk about because it just got  _ so _ in her head. “Well, part of me does wonder if I  _ am _ doing it because I don’t want to be like her. Like, isn’t that fucked? That a huge part of my personality is just an absolute rejection of my mum’s?”

“I suppose,” Teddy sighed, “You know I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh shit,” Lily gasped, slapping a palm over her mouth. She’d forgotten that Teddy didn’t  _ have _ parents. He had been raised by his grandmum.

“I wouldn’t think too much about it,” Teddy said, shrugging it off. “I mean, you’re so young, so what if that’s part of your personality? It doesn’t mean you won’t do great things because of it. Who knows, it probably pushes you out of your comfort zone too, and isn’t that a good thing?”

“I guess,” Lily said. She regarded Teddy then. He didn’t look like anyone she knew, although that was probably because his biological family tree was all but dead at the roots. Besides, if he did want to look like someone else he could just change his face.

“Do you ever wish —” she started but was interrupted by Albus calling out to them at the door. She turned to wave them over. Scorpius was standing behind her two brothers, looking as pale and blonde as his father. She wondered if he hated it too, being the spitting image of his father. Although he probably had it worse, she realized with some guilt. Nobody ever said nice things about Draco Malfoy.

Halfway through seventh year, her parents split up.

It was. A lot. A lot to take alone.

Albus and James almost immediately took off to America. James had been considering transferring to a team out in California since Scorpius moved to Los Angeles last year, so at least Lily had expected that. But when Albus had left too, it had  _ hurt _ , even though she really should have seen it coming too. James could never seem to keep away from Scorpius, and Albus could never seem to keep away from both of them.

The night before they were due to leave, they bought her a couple blunts from Dogweed and Deathcap in Hogsmeade and the three of them smoked them off the shore of the Great Lake.

“Maybe Harry finally realized how fucked up it was to date his mum,” Lily tried joking.

“Merlin, Lily,” Albus spat out, choking on his spit.

“You’ll come to see us, yeah?” Jamie reached over to ruffle her hair. He was always like that these days, just completely unflappable, like whatever you were saying was just background noise to what was actually on his mind. Sometimes Lily thought the nonchalance was because he was masking some sort of deep anguish, but then she would almost immediately dismiss it. People couldn’t be that repressed in real life.

There was a soft buzzing in Lily’s head. She felt heavy and loose and ready to sleep for a long time. It was going to be okay.

The next day she broke up with her boyfriend so that when the others saw her crying, they thought it was because of him, and not because her parents had split up.

“Why don’t you just dye your hair,” Teddy wrote after she’d sent him pages and pages on how everyone looked at her now like she’d been discarded by the Saviour too, which was fucked up. Anyone who knew Harry would know that he would never abandon his children. His parents died for him, and Merlin forbade him from doing anything less than the most for his own.

“Whatever,” she wrote back because she didn’t know how to explain it to him. She wasn’t sure she could even explain it to herself. She just knew that she couldn’t dye her hair. A part of her thought it was because she was afraid of who’d she’d be if she didn’t resent her mother anymore. Another part of her thought maybe it had to do with her grandmother.

Lily stayed at Hogwarts through the holidays. She missed her brothers more days than not. She even missed Rose sometimes, even though they’d never particularly got on. She’d been crying again behind a suit of armour when Hugo found her and suggested that she come to have lunch with him because his mum had told him to.

“Jesus, Hugo, you can’t just scare me like that,” Lily said, wiping her eyes. If she were being perfectly honestly she’d kind of forgotten about Hugo. He’d been sorted in Ravenclaw, so they didn’t see each other much even though they were in the same year. But she followed him to the Ravenclaw tables anyway, where he introduced her to the twins Lysander and Loran.

“I know you,” she said, but she couldn’t remember from where. Her mind was still stuffed with cry-boogies and it was hard for her to think.

“We’ve been over to yours a couple of times,” the two of them said in alternating breaths, “Our mum’s friends with your dad. Luna Lovegood.”

“Oh, right,” she nodded, “I was named after your mum." How weird, to be named after someone who was still alive. She wondered if she was anything like their mum.

“I was named after some besotted fool from a play,” Lysander bemoaned.

“I think I was named to match Lysander,” Lorcan laughed.

“Don’t look at me,” Hugo insisted with his mouth full, “I’ve got a normal name.”

“Close your mouth Hugo. You’re gross,” one of the twins giggled. Hugo had his fist around a fat chicken leg. Lily hated baked chicken legs. It was the only thing her mum could cook, so they had it every night except for the nights Harry brought home takeaway. Now that Harry was gone maybe her mum would just eat chicken legs every day until she died. 

God, that sounded pathetic. Lily almost felt bad for her mum.

Both Harry and Ginny came to Lily’s graduation, along with the rest of the whole Weasley-Granger clan. Albus and James didn’t make it. James sent a very beautiful snitch because he still thought she was still planning on signing with the Harpies, and Albus wrote her a long letter about how sorry he was, but he really couldn’t face their parents yet, so it was best for everyone if he didn’t come.

Whatever. Lily passed her N.E.W.T.s and got her apprenticeship with the Unspeakables. She didn’t need them there, they’d just hold her back. Besides, she’d always liked Teddy more, and he bought her a new wand case engraved with the image of a slumbering doe, her Patronus.

Her parents took her out to dinner later that evening and made it so that the only polite conversation topic was herself. So she told them that she was going to move in with Hugo and the Scamander twins.

“I’m also not going to do Quidditch,” she said in between bites of pork rib, eyes brazenly on Harry, daring him to be disappointed.

Harry’s eyes only widened slightly, before he said, “That’s fine, I’m sure you’ll excel in whatever you do. You’re an adult now, don’t need permission from me,” which was as much as she’d expected from him. Her mum snorted the same time she did, and they shared a look. In the past, Lily had always appreciated when her dad took her side, but lately, she was starting to think that he just straight up didn’t care what she did, as long as she stayed alive.

“I’m going to be an Unspeakable,” Lily supplied because he hadn’t asked.

“That’s great,” Harry said, “You know, I have some friends who —”

Lily rolled her eyes. “I already got the apprenticeship, Harry. I don’t need your connections.”

“Oh. Err — that’s — that’s great.” And that was the end of that.

“Is it safe though, for you to be living with three boys?” Ginny asked, and then Lily immediately remembered why she hated her mum again.

Lily took a swig of her beer and exhaled loudly, getting ready to continue her rant. “I just don’t get why she insists on owling every day. I mean, if I was sending someone an owl every day and they weren’t responding I think I’d get the bloody hint, wouldn’t I? And I  _ know  _ it’s because she thinks she needs to check in on me ‘cos I’m living with three boys. She’s just, I can’t  _ stand _ her, it’s not like she’s any better, she practically grew up in a household of boys other than Grandmum Molly, she  _ knows _ boys aren’t all rapey shites.”

“You’re saying that your mum should’ve been worried about being raped by her brothers?” Conor, her latest boyfriend, asked dubiously.

“Ew! Merlin, no, that’s  _ disgusting _ , how could you even say that?”

“You said —”

“Alright, alright, maybe our situations aren’t  _ exactly _ the same.” She stabbed a broccoli spear with her fork and pointed it at him. “But she  _ knows _ those boys, one of them is  _ literally _ her nephew, and the other two are just  _ so sweet _ . Do you know them? Lorcan and Lysander?”

“No, I —”

“They were Ravenclaw, the same year as me —”

“Jesus Lily, you know that I don’t know them. Sometimes I feel like you deliberately forget that I’m seven years older than you just so I’d feel bad about it.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry. Sorry — I’m just, kind of out of it. No, of course, I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“I — okay, that’s fine, but —”

“Speak of the devil.” Lily shot up, waving toward Lysander as he approached them. She turned back to Conor. “It’s Lysander, my flatmate. You should meet him, he’s  _ harmless _ —”

Lysander held out his hand. “I’m Lysander,” he chuckled, “The harmless flatmate.”

“Conor,” Lily’s boyfriend said, “Lily’s mentioned you a lot, glad to finally put a face to the name.” 

“What’re you up to later tonight?” Lily clapped her hands together. Lysander was  _ always _ having a good time.

“Thinking about hitting up Serpentine,” Lysander grinned. “What, you two free?”

“I’m there,” Lily gushed.

Conor looked peeved. “I thought we were going to the Gilded Phoenix with Angelo and Marcia after this.”

“Oh yeah,” Lily said, pretending she hadn’t forgotten, “I mean, obviously we’ll go to Serpentine  _ after _ , can you imagine even going to a club before eleven, it’s not even nine.”

“I thought after —”

“I’m going to get back to my friends. See you later, maybe?” Lysander winked before heading back. Lily craned her neck to see who he was with, but she didn’t recognize them. Probably folks from his Arithmancy apprenticeship, then.

“Jesus, Lily, I hate it when you get like this,” Conor was saying when she turned back.

Lily drained the last of her beer, drowning him out. And then she said, “Listen, Conor, you’re  _ awesome _ , but I don’t think it’s been working out.” Then she ordered another beer and walked over to Lysander’s group to introduce herself. They all had another couple baskets of chips and another few rounds of drinks, and then they met up with Lorcan and Hugo at Zombie Village, so it wasn’t until past midnight that they finally made it to Serpentine. 

“Lysander tells me you broke up with another one,” Hugo said. They’d broken off from the group around one for pizza.

“Sure,” Lily agreed. She swayed back and forth to the music, pleasantly intoxicated as they waited in line.

“Funny how none of us even knew you were dating anyone.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “He was old, okay. It wasn’t ever going to be serious.”

“So then why’d you date him?”

“Jesus, Hugo, if I wanted to play this game I would’ve just Floo’d my mum. Not everyone’s so blessed as you to meet their soulmate before eighteen, alright? What’s Celeste up to tonight?”

What was with people getting engaged straight out of school anyway? Lily couldn’t even be trusted to choose which chaser she wanted with her shot, and they expected her to choose some bloke to be with for the rest of her life? No bloody way. If she got married to anyone now it’d end in divorce in ten years, and then she’d be no better than her mum.

“Celeste’s got midterms, you  _ know _ that you’re literally her best friend,” Hugo exasperated, “Besides, I’m not begging you to marry these blokes, I just want a face to laugh at after you break up with them, alright?”

“Alright, alright,” Lily cajoled, slinging an arm over Hugo’s shoulder, “How about this, I’ll do you one better.” She gestured widely to the people around them. “You can choose my next boyfriend.”

A mischievous grin spread across Hugo’s face. “Him,” he said, pointing toward the door.

“Lorcan?” Lily gasped too loud, doubling over in giggles. “You got me this time, Hugo, even I won’t pull a bloke with a boyfriend.”

“Lorcan?” Hugo frowned, “Isn’t it Lysander?”

“Jesus, you’re embarrassing,” Lily mock-chided, “It’s  _ obviously _ Lorcan. Lysander has a conspicuously posher bearing, comparing the two is like — like — like” her voice slurred, “comparing ice to snow.”

Lorcan had made his way to them by then. Lily got distracted by the lights in the corner of the room. They alternated white, yellow, blue, and then white again. And maybe green too, if she squinted just the right way.

“Lily? Is that right?” Hugo was saying.

“Huh,” she said, snapping back to them. “Jesus, I need another drink.”

Lorcan laughed. “I think that’s the opposite of what you need.” He handed her a plastic cup of water. Lorcan was so nice that sometimes Lily wanted to punch him. She took the cup.

“I was telling him about your ice and snow analogy,” Hugo was saying, “He agrees it’s spot-on.”

“I’m still chuffed you can tell us apart from that distance,” Lorcan was smiling, “Even our mother struggles with that.”

“Oh well,” Lily blushed. She didn’t know why she felt so embarrassed. It was like they’d finally caught on to how much time she spent staring after the two of them. Or Lysander, particularly. He was just so conventionally handsome. Obviously she had to pay attention to his mannerisms. Recognizing Lorcan was more a test of differentiating Lysander from not-Lysander than recognizing Lorcan himself.

Hugo rolled his eyes. “Your mum can’t even tell me and Rose apart, and we look  _ nothing _ like.” He turned to the cashier. “What did you want again, Lils?”

“Sausage,” she said. “Shrooms if they’ve got it.”

“Merlin, is Lysander still in there?” Hugo asked later after they’d gotten their pizza, “It’s past two, we’ve been out nearly an hour now.”

“Who knows,” Lily shrugged, “Probably necking some girl.” Maybe gone home with her too. It happened often enough.

Lorcan checked his watch, the one that told him where his twin was at all times. “He’s still inside. Want me to get him? I’m knackered, I’m going to head back.”

“Me too,” Hugo yawned.

“You two are no fun,” Lily exclaimed, stamping her foot and almost losing her balance. Jesus, she was drunk.

“I’m tiiiireeedd, Lils,” Hugo whined, “I’m engaged, that makes me practically  _ ancient _ , you should feel lucky I’m even here —”

“Fine, you two go home,” she grumbled, “I’ll make sure he gets home later.”

“Are you sure —” Lorcan said, his brows knit, at the same time Hugo pulled him away by the shoulder, saying, “It’s fine! Yes! Go find him, don’t mind us!”

“You really must be exhausted,” Lily smiled at the two of them, bemused, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

Lily woke up the next day with a blinding headache and no recollection of getting home. She rolled out of bed and pulled on an old Quidditch jersey. Then she took stock. Wand — check. Her own bed — check. And she’d managed to get out of her sweaty clubbing robes — extra credit, surely. She awarded herself a solid B+ and headed downstairs to the kitchen to chug coffee until she felt alive again.

Lysander was already in the kitchen flipping eggs. He was wearing a light blue turtleneck and looked as immaculate as he always did, of course. When he turned to her he was smirking. “Good night?” He indicated toward his neck.

“Bloody hell,” she exclaimed when she looked down at her necklace of love bites. Last night — she couldn’t have — She took out her wand and magicked it away. “I suppose you couldn’t tell me what I was doing last night?”

He slid two eggs and a slice of toast onto a plate and placed it in front of her. "You don’t remember?”

She squinted into her coffee. Last night — she thought maybe she got on the Knight Bus — but nothing beyond that. She shook her head. “No idea.”

“Can’t help you then,” he said, nonchalant. “Mind getting the paper?”

“Ughhh fine,” Lily groaned. There was a fifty-six per cent chance she was going to throw up. She gingerly stepped to the windowsill and picked up the paper where an owl had dropped it off earlier in the morning.

“Does it happen a lot?” Lysander asked, still in front of the stove.

“What, blacking out? Sometimes, I wouldn’t say a lot.” She wasn’t embarrassed now that the love bites were gone. One night stands, they happened. Lysander should know. Still a B+ night.

Lily unrolled the paper. Lysander was saying something, but he suddenly sounded very distant, as though Lily was underwater, and he was calling to her from the surface. Lily traced a finger down the photo on the front page. It was her dad, of course. He was in the Potions aisle at Flourish and Blotts, snogging Draco Malfoy. It looked like a good snog. Enthusiastic. Lily wanted to barf.

“Jesus,” Lysander breathed from behind her.

She jerked up, slamming the paper down on the counter and trying to cover the photo with her hands. Tears welled in her eyes. Just when she thought she was getting used to it — 

A letter fell out. It was from her dad. Probably begging to have lunch and talk. She didn’t have to open it to know what it would say. 

“Jesus, Lily, I’m so sorry,” Lysander said, pulling an arm around her. Lily turned into his chest and sobbed.

Lily wrote a short, half-page letter to James. She tore the parchment in half and copied the same letter over for Albus. When she finished, she tied both to her owl to drop off at the International Post Office. And since she was at the window anyway, she threw Harry’s letter out of it too, unopened. Then she Floo’d over to 12 Grimmauld Place.

Her mum opened the door and dragged her into her arms. “Lily,” she sobbed, “You have no idea — I  _ love _ you, Lily, I love  _ you _ .”

“I know,” Lily whispered, “Now come on, let’s get in before anyone sees us.”

Lily made them a pot of tea. Ginny took a cup in her hand and nursed it from a cocoon of blankets on the sofa. It was so weird to see her looking so sad on this sofa. Lily almost wanted to push her off of it, just so she didn’t have to add this ugly memory to the ones she already had of this big, squishy sofa where a million happy things had happened when she was younger.

“I just —  _ just _ when I thought I was getting used to it,” Ginny said, subdued.

Lily winced, thinking about how she had thought the same thing. She really could not escape their similarities. “You knew it was going to happen eventually,” Lily said as gently as she could.

“But did it have to be  _ Draco Malfoy? _ ”

“What’s wrong with Draco Malfoy?” Lily bristled, reflexively defensive of Scorpius. 

Ginny stared into her teacup. “You’re right, I suppose  _ he _ didn’t do anything particularly awful to me. But did I ever tell you how his father once gave me the diary containing the soul of Voldemort, so that Voldemort could possess me?”

“How can a diary possess you?” Lily asked. She gasped. “Surely you didn’t  _ write _ in it? Merlin, are you insane?”

“I was eleven!” Ginny cried.

Lily backed down. She imagined her mother now as a lonely eleven-year-old girl, deceived and exploited by Voldemort. And still, she managed to finish all seven years of school and go on to have a Quidditch career and three children without ever speaking of it. Lily suddenly felt very self-indulgent, the way she was spiralling out of control just because her two, very-still-alive parents didn’t want to be with each other anymore.

“I’m so sorry,” Lily said, about the diary, and everything else. Maybe she didn’t know her mother after all. “So you  _ didn’t _ get Petrified to catch Harry Potter’s attention.”

“Merlin, no!” Ginny gasped, “Do even my own children believe the lies that that awful Skeeter book spews?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lily apologized quickly, “But — I mean, can you  _ blame _ us? You and Da —  _ Harry _ have never wanted to talk about the war. How else were we supposed to know? It was either read the book ourselves, or look like idiots when everyone else knew but we didn’t.”

“We’d always thought we’d tell you when we were ready, but your dad never seemed to be ready.” She trailed off, looking into her teacup with renewed anguish.

Lily gulped, feeling guilty. “I’m — I’m sure, someday, I’m in no rush,” she said hesitantly, “Just — could you — did you  _ really _ hit Draco Malfoy with a bat-bogey hex?”

She laughed. “ _ Yes _ , I did. Although not to impress anyone, least of all your dad. It was to escape from Umbridge’s office! Merlin, Malfoy was such a git. I hope your dad enjoys spending time with his future in-laws. May he enjoy his Christmas ham in the frigid manor of Voldemort’s final stronghold above which his friends had been kept as prisoners in the dungeons!” Ginny said grandly, as though casting a curse, before laughing hollowly. 

Lily shuddered. “Jesus, that’s morbid, mum. Besides, Scorpius tells me they’ve ripped out the dungeons entirely.”

Ginny sat up a little straighter. “What’ve they got there now?”

“Scorpius says some of it’s a potions lab for his dad. Some of it’s a Muggle home theatre now, the rest they change around for whatever they need I suppose.”

“Muggle home theatre,” Ginny mused, “That’s a good idea.”

“Why’re you so curious?” Lily asked suspiciously.

“Oh! Well, as you know my ex-husband graciously left me with the family home,” Ginny gestured ostentatiously around the living room, “And as I do not need seven bedrooms on my own, I thought I could convert it into a bed and breakfast. Want to see what I’ve done to Harry’s old office?”

Ginny led them to a room on the first floor. Even from the outside, she had already made changes. She swapped out the ugly black door for a set of grand white double doors inlaid with stained glass. Inside, soft clouds drifted just below a magicked ceiling of the sky. A set of windows opened an entire wall out to a balcony overlooking the garden. Lily stepped in and instantly gasped. The whole room was so — light. With every step, Lily felt as though she was floating across the room.

“I put a charm to lighten everything in the room, even your steps,” Ginny explained proudly, “I want this room to be for anyone who needs a lightening of their burdens.”

“That’s a great idea,” Lily gushed. “Blimey, Mum, this is the coolest room I have ever been in. And I love that you didn’t just make it pretty, you also put heart behind it. Honestly, I’m so impressed, Mum.”

Ginny blushed. “That’s sweet of you to say, Lily.”

“It seems like a lot to do on your own, though.”

“Well, time is certainly something I’ve got.”

Lily twirled around the middle of the room, taking in the seascape mural, the lush pastels of the rug. She turned to Ginny and took her mum’s hands in hers. “Can I help you with this, Mum?”

Lily thought Ginny had never looked happier.

Lily went back the next weekend with wallpaper samples. The week after she brought scraps of velvet for the sofa she wanted to upholster for the library. And the week after that the two of them went to the nursery and picked out twenty different varieties of houseplants because they couldn’t decide on just five.

Sometime in the following month, Lily asked, “If you were looking for a distraction, why didn’t you just go back to the paper? I’m sure they’d have taken you back.” To which Ginny shook her head furiously and said, “No, no. I think it’s time for something new,” and Lily found that she couldn’t agree more. It was as though they were both trying to escape from the image of the old Ginny Weasley, the one that was the spunky but perfectly demure wife of Harry Potter.

And then finally the holidays reared their ugly split heads. Albus and James still refused to come back. From her last letter from James, it seemed they weren’t even doing Christmas together, as Albus had moved to San Diego. The Weasleys were going to have their usual Christmas at the Burrow, excluding Harry. And then Harry was having a New Year's party with Draco Malfoy and some of their friends like the Lovegoods, the Zabinis, the Longbottoms, and none of the Weasleys except Ron and Hermione.

Lily was still deciding what she would do.

“I think you ought to go.” Ginny was painting a wall and had specks of gold splattered in her hair that glittered in the afternoon sun.

“I  _ am _ ,” Lily said, “I’ve already told you a million times, I’ve even written to Grandmum. I  _ know _ how much of a disappointment I was to miss last year’s —”

“No, no, I meant your dad’s New Year’s party.” She put down the roller and smirked at Ginny. “I know you’re going to the Burrow with me this year, you can’t stand to miss another year of Grandmum’s cooking.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Lily made a face. She’d taken to ordering takeout for the two of them after the first few weekends of baked chicken legs. “Why’re you taking his side, anyway?”

“There are no  _ sides _ in a family,” Ginny chided. Lily resisted rolling her eyes. Ginny continued, “But isn’t it time? You can’t still hate him.  _ I’m _ the one who ought to hate him the most and I don’t even anymore. Plus, he is still your dad. He does love you, you know.”

“Albus and James haven’t, with any of this,” Lily refuted. It wasn’t  _ fair _ .

“Sure, but they’re boys.”

“ _ Mum _ .” Lily had spent many weekends lecturing Ginny on feminism and toxic masculinity and gender roles; she ought to know better by now. 

“Alright, alright,” she said, holding up her hands, “They’re your dad’s boys, then. Stubborn to the end. You’re the only one like me. If you don’t make amends, who will?”

Lily swallowed, trying to find the right words to express her fears. “It’s just, sometimes he’s so distant he just — I don’t know if he even actually  _ likes _ me, you know? Like, I know he loves me, but I feel like he thinks loving me just means he’d be willing to die for me. He doesn’t know anything about actually getting to know me.”

“I know, that’s always been hard for him. You remember, he didn’t grow up with loving caregivers, so he doesn’t know what to do a lot of the time. I know it’s a lot of work, but you love him, so it’s on you to show him.”

Jesus, Lily felt awful. Her dad was an  _ orphan _ . How did she just forget things like that?

That night she wrote to Harry to say that she’d see him on New Year’s Eve. And then as consolation, she wrote two long pages to Teddy, complaining about it all.

“It’s not too bad,” Teddy wrote back, “I went to both last year. Your dad’s new flat is nice. It has a view of the Eye so you get a great view of the fireworks. The only awkward part was where I had to pretend to propose to Victoire for the first time twice, so both sides couldn’t complain. It made me almost want to elope, can you imagine forcing Molly Weasley to keep her mouth shut about her granddaughter’s engagement for those five days between Christmas and New Year’s?”

To which Lily replied, “Jesus, congrats Teddy. I didn’t know. When’s the wedding? When’s the baby on the way?” and then felt miserable for not even knowing that her favourite godbrother had been engaged for almost an entire year already.

She took out two more pieces of parchment and wrote a letter to James and Albus each, informing them about Teddy’s engagement. And then she filled the rest of the page with (highly censored) stories about her work, her mom’s new rooms, the Scamanders, whatever came to mind that she thought they’d laugh at, and she sent them off. She didn’t expect a response from them, but she supposed she had to try.

“How come you don’t come out with us anymore?” Lorcan asked when she was in the kitchen one Friday, writing another long letter to Teddy, “Did Lysander do something wrong?”

“What? No,” she said, not looking up, “Why would he do something wrong?”

“Well, you stopped coming out right after that night when —”

Hugo barrelled in the room and tackled Lorcan into a hug. “No more chatter! We’re late.”

But Lorcan still looked worried, so Lily put down her quill and teased, “Alright, alright, I’ll come out, since you missed me so much.”

The three of them went to the Gilded Phoenix, where Celeste and Vikash were already waiting.

“Did you just beg me to come out so I’ll be the fifth wheel?” Lily whined without really meaning it.

“I wouldn’t! Lysander’s on his way,” Lorcan insisted in that stupidly earnest way of his. And sure enough, Lysander showed up ten minutes later and slid into the booth across from Lily.

“What happened to you though?” Vikash was asking Lily, “One day you’re hating your mum and going out every night, and the next day you’re hanging out with your mum sober all the time. No one does that sort of a 180 without being Imperiused.”

“We’re not  _ sober _ ,” Lily insisted, “We drink plenty while we’re painting.”

“Painting?”

“Ohh yeah, have I not told you? She’s renovating all the rooms at Grimmauld ‘cos she’s turning it into a bed and breakfast. So we’ve been spending weekends painting and sanding and upholstering, you know, all the DIY home stuff. You all should come over sometime. It’s coming together nicely.”

“That sounds brill,” Celeste gushed, “I  _ love _ bed and breakfasts, Hugo and I stayed in one when we were in Glasgow.”

“Ginny Weasley, home renovator. Didn’t think I expected that,” Lysander mused.

Lily looked at him almost shyly. It was true, though. “Yeah, she’s not who I thought she was. In a good way. Like — you know, I always had this image of her as this sort of model wife type. And I guess she sort of was when I was growing up, but she wasn’t like that when she was younger, and she isn’t that right now either. But, it was, it was like — I don’t know, like I had put her in this mould, and I hated that mould because I thought she wanted me to fit in that mould too. But then she broke the mould herself and now I’m like, I’m,  _ I _ don’t have to —” Lily choked around her words, trailing off.

Up until a few months ago, Lily’s entire existence was the antithesis of her mother’s. But now that her mother didn’t even know who she was anymore, Lily could be whoever  _ she _ wanted — 

They were all staring at her at the table. She blushed. And then she yelled, “Okay, can we talk about something else? When’s the bloody wedding, Hugo? You’ve got a lot of nerve, dragging Celeste along like that, if you don’t swap that engagement ring for a wedding band soon her hand’s going to  _ fall off _ .”

“Hey!” Hugo retorted at the same time Celeste giggled and said, “Oh, Lily, you know it’s fashionable now to wear both after the wedding?”

Lysander caught her on the way out to her mum’s the next day and asked to come too.

“Oh goodness, you’re a handsome one,” Ginny said as soon as she saw him, “Strong, too.”

“Mum!” Lily exclaimed.

“What? I’m single now, why can’t I —”

“‘Cos you’re  _ ancient _ , Mum! Jesus, he’s younger than both your sons —”

“It’s okay, Lily,” Lysander said, blushing, which — Lily immediately rounded on him — how  _ dare _ he. 

“You don’t get to like this!” Lily hissed at him, “She’s my  _ mum! _ ”

“What’s so wrong about it?” Lysander murmured, still blushing, “She looks like you,” which made Lily turn so red she thought her head was going to explode, and of course, her traitorous mum only laughed the whole time.

Lysander came back the weekend after too, to Lily’s mum’s delight. And Lily’s too, although she wouldn’t admit it. It was nice to have someone to vent to who knew what she was talking about when she complained about the long loo lines at Serpentine. And then the week after was Christmas.

“I hate the hols. It always reminds me of how I’m bloody related to you,” Hugo grumbled as Lily watched him try on jumpers. He had two grandmums who both knitted, so if he chose the wrong jumper-scarf-hat combo he was sure to offend both.

Lily laughed. “You’re just about the least complicated family member I have. I’d die at the Burrow without you.”

“Nah, you’ve Teddy now that he’s engaged to Victoire,” he said, pulling off a brown one. Not Grandmum Molly’s best work.

Lily rolled her eyes. “That means I  _ haven’t _ got him, he’ll probably spend the whole night trying to out-drink all the uncles just to get on her good side.”

An owl pecked at the window. Lily got up to let it in. The envelope was addressed to her. She held it in her hands, trying to keep her breath steady. It was from James.

“Well, go on and open it then,” Hugo encouraged, “It’s probably a holiday greeting.”

The letter felt thin in Lily’s hand. She tore it open carefully. James had written only a few lines: “Miss you too Lils. Ever think of coming by sometime? Also, I’m gay.”

“What the bloody fuck, ughhh, I  _ hate _ my brothers,” Lily whined, “Now I’m just going to think about his three stupid sentences  _ all night _ .”

Hugo snatched the letter from her and read it out loud.

“ALSO, I’M GAY!” Lily shouted at the ceiling after he’d finished. She rolled over to look at Hugo. “Seriously, who  _ writes _ that. Hey Lily, haven’t talked to you in months, actually, despite your weekly letters. Want to travel across the world to, you know, stop by for an indeterminable amount of time by which I probably mean a couple of hours? By the way, I’m gay!” Lily knew what type of person wrote that sort of letter. Her  _ bloody brother _ , the one who she could never read but who always looked  _ tragically sad _ and had decided to out himself in a  _ side note _ .

Hugo shook his head. “Maybe you should go.”

“Yeah, I know, I mean, I’m definitely going,” Lily said, sighing. “Why couldn’t you be my brother instead? They can have Rose. We’re a much better pair —”

“We’re the same year. We’d be twins if we were siblings,” Hugo pointed out.

“So?”

“We’d never be friends. I’d have your face. You’d absolutely hate me for stealing your sense of individualism.”

“Ugh, okay, you’re right,” Lily conceded. She threw a beanie at him. “Are you bloody ready yet? I want to head over and start eating mashed potatoes and getting smashed.”

The Burrow was packed from the entryway on. Lily threw her coat on the pile and then walked around, picking out Fred and Roxanne, and also Louis and Lucy and Dominique, and in the kitchen Victoire with Teddy’s hand on her waist. Lily also saw half a dozen or so people she didn’t recognize but hung around people she did so she knew they had to be plus ones.

“I hate my brothers. I may actually be the thirty-third wheel tonight,” Lily hissed to Hugo.

Hugo handed her a beer. “Heard Lysander’s been hanging out at your mum’s place a bunch.”

“Yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I think he has a crush on my mum.”

“Jesus, Lily,” Hugo laughed, “You’re crazy.”

“I’m not, even I’d admit Mum’s no baggy sack.”

Hugo was shaking his head, a bemused smile on his face.

“I know, I know,” she conceded, feeling guilty, “I’m just giving my mum a hard time.”

Uncle Charlie found her then and dragged her out to the back where some of them had assembled for a pickup Quidditch match. “You can go on your mum’s team,” Charlie said, shoving her toward her.

“Don’t slow me down,” Ginny told her. Lily rolled her eyes. Ginny hadn’t played pickup Quidditch for as long as Lily could remember. Lily was going to dust Ginny’s ass.

They took off. Almost immediately, Ginny had the Quaffle hurling at Lily. Lily barely caught it, tumbling in the air as she shot toward the end of the pitch nearly upside down. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Uncle George barreling toward her from the right, she didn’t have time to escape unless — she looked to her left — she threw to her mum, who closed the distance and scored a goal just as Uncle George barely missed colliding into Lily.

Jesus. Talk about underestimating Ginny Weasley. Louis was already shouting at Charlie, something like, “You idiot, you know never to put two Potters on the same team!” and Lily grinned, fist-bumping her mum as she flew past.

They played until Grandmum called them in to wash up for dinner. Lily threw her broom in the pile on the back porch and went back inside, her whole head dizzy with joy. She hadn’t flown since Hogwarts. She’d forgotten how much she’d liked it. She imagined her mum must’ve felt the same.

Lily held onto that high for the full day after Christmas and for maybe another half day after that. But by the time she got off work on the 27th she was starting to feel the dread of going to Harry’s New Year’s party all over again. Lily had hoped that Hugo would go too, but he was going to Celeste’s family’s New Year’s party instead, so Lily knew she’d be alone then, just herself left to deal with her dad and her dad’s new boyfriend.

She was picking off the label of a bottle of beer and staring off in the dark when Lysander came in the kitchen and turned on the lights.

“Jesus, Lily,” he exclaimed, “What’s wrong with you?”

His hair was slicked back but it still looked soft and a little mussed from the wind. He was wearing a rich grey turtleneck that he tucked in a pair of pressed trousers. He probably just came back from drinks with coworkers, like a normal wizard, who didn’t spend their evenings moping around in the dark drinking by themselves.

What was wrong with her? Too much, maybe. She buried her head in her arms. “None of your business.”

He shook his head. “Want to go out? You look ready.”

She scoffed. “Are you kidding me?” She was in her sweats. She had no makeup on. No way did she look ready to go out.

Lysander walked to the refrigerator and took out a beer. Lily lifted her head warily and watched him pour it into a glass. He was always doing that, pouring beers out into glasses. It didn’t matter what kind of beer, they all got poured into a glass. He took a sip, foam frothing on his upper lip, eyes on Lily, before slamming the glass down on the table. Lily jumped.

“Why are you always like that with me?” he accused, “You’ll agree when Hugo or Lorcan or literally anyone else asks you to come out, but with me, it’s all  _ snark _ .”

“I don’t treat you three any differently,” she snorted contemptuously, but she wasn’t sure if she even believed herself. She didn’t know how to explain it. Hugo and Lorcan, they were safe.  _ Harmless _ . She felt safe wearing sweats and no makeup in front of them. And Lysander had once felt safe, too. It was the only reason why she’d agreed to live with them to start. But sometime in the last few months, Lysander had started to feel dangerous, like he could hurt her with a careless comment, or a disinterested look.

“Fine,” Lysander hissed, “If that’s the case then you’d tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine,” Lily bellowed, “I’m just worried about my dad’s bloody new years thing, alright?” She started shivering as soon as those words left her. It was just — she felt so  _ stupid _ , and now Lysander was going to think she was stupid too, to be so worried about a bloody party. “It’s just, not —,” she started blathering, “It’s like, I don’t even  _ know _ if he wants me there. Like, I know he wants me there, but I don’t know  _ why _ . If he only wants me there out of obligation then I don’t want to go, I only want to go if he wants —  _ me _ .”

“Why wouldn’t you think he wants you?”

“Because, because —” she scrunched up her face and tried not to cry, Jesus, crying in front of Lysander again, seriously, “I’m worried that — I mean, look at me. I’m the spitting image of my mum. How can he not see me and see — his ex-wife, I mean, now —”

Lysander moved to sit at the table with her. “I don’t believe that.”

“I mean, how could he  _ not _ ,” Lily said with snot dripping down her nose, “Even if I don’t remind him of Mum, I’d remind him of  _ his _ mum. My whole life I don’t think he’s ever asked a thing about me. He’s just always assumed he already knew who I was because I remind him of the other two women in his life.”

Lysander reached over and blotted her face with a handkerchief. “I don’t believe that. I mean, maybe. But I don’t believe it. You and your mother are completely different people. Anyone a mile away could see that.”

“You don’t understand —”

“Lorcan and I are identical. But you don’t think we’re the same person, do you?”

Lily shook her head. She wiped her nose with the handkerchief. It was soft and light and had some sort of charm on it so that the snot disappeared immediately. “No,” she laughed, choking a little, “You two are  _ so _ different, even the way you stand is different.”

Lily took a few deep breaths, steadying herself. “It’s not like Harry can see his mum in me anyway, it’s not like he even knew her,” she tried joking, “ _ Nobody _ knew her. I’m pretty sure everyone she knew is dead.”

Lysander didn’t laugh. “Do you wish you knew her?”

“More than anything,” Lily whispered. More than anything she felt like her grandmother was the missing piece in understanding herself. She  _ had _ to be. Nothing else made sense.

“Well, I’m sure we can find someone she knew,” Lysander nodded. “Don’t worry so much about your dad’s party. Lorcan and I’ll both be there too.”

“Oh, right!” Lily brightened, thankful for Luna Lovegood, her middle-namesake, for probably the first time in her life.

Harry’s New Year Party started at six the eve of, so at five Lily dragged her flatmates out to a bar and drank three beers to their one, and arrived at her dad’s new flat around seven or so, drunk, and with the Scamander twins in tow.

“Lily,” Harry greeted her warmly at the door, “Lorcan, Lysander. I didn’t know you knew each other.”

Lily flushed. “We’re flatmates, Harry. I told you before.”

“Oh, that’s embarrassing,” Harry laughed, although he didn’t sound embarrassed at all. There were two bright red spots on his cheeks. He looked drunk. “Come inside, let’s get you a drink. Your mum’s already here,” he said, nodding to the twins.

Lily beelined for the kitchen. And then she caught sight of Draco Malfoy leaned up against the stove, and stumbled back out, nearly tripping over Scorpius in her hurry to get out.

“Lily!” Scorpius exclaimed, and then caught sight of his father, and stumbled right out on Lily’s heels.

“Jesus,” Lily said as they hid by the fireplace in the living room. She shook her head. “You’re back, then?”

“I had to shoot a couple of scenes in London, so I thought I’d stop by,” he explained.

“Oh right,” Lily said. She hadn’t had the chance to see one of Scorpius’s movies yet, but she’d seen him on magazine covers, so she could only assume that he was doing well. “James back too then?”

“No.” There was a faraway look in Scorpius’s eyes. “We lost touch.”

Lily’s eyes grew wide. “No way,” she exclaimed. They were attached at the hip. James moved to California for him. No way.

“It happens,” he said, though his smile was sad. “Our schedules — got too busy. We travel a lot.”

Lily suddenly remembered that James was  _ gay _ . Was Scorpius gay too? She gulped. Maybe he wasn’t, and then James had confessed, and, and even if Scorpius  _ was _ gay, and they  _ had been _ together, their dads had beaten them to it, and — 

She was talking nonsense. She shook her head, to clear it. “Do you know why Albus moved out too?”

Scorpius looked surprised. “I didn’t know that. I thought —”

Lily laughed, a little choked. “It’s kind of awful how it’s like this now." And then she willed herself not to cry. “I’m just — I hate it so much, and I resent them so much, for doing this to us.” She glared at Harry, who had a hand on Draco’s lower back as they leaned against the sofa, talking to Hermione and Pansy.

“I did too, at first.” Scorpius hummed, looking out at the party. “But then I saw them, and I came around to it. I’ve never seen my father so happy in his life. It was as though he’d finally found what he was missing.”

Lily shook her head. “You’re a better person than me,” she said and excused herself to the loo.

Lysander found her when she came back and forced her to play a round of Exploding Snap with him and Lorcan and his mum. Lily decided she liked Luna. There was a gentle aura around her, mischievous and bright, like the soft glow of candlelight, that made her presence always welcoming. Lily didn’t mind being named after her. There was no way anyone would confuse her blunt red hair for Luna’s warm cascade of golden curls.

They all gathered on the balcony to watch the fireworks five minutes to midnight. Lily was still huddled with the Scamanders. Luna had let her borrow her thick shaw, and Lily wrapped it around her like a great pastel flag. Lily could feel Lysander warm beside her, turning toward her, but she couldn’t stop looking at her dad, the way Harry’s face flushed whenever Draco was near, his mouth splitting in a shameless smile. He was unabashedly happy, happier than Lily had ever seen him, and she wanted to hate him for it, hate that they could never make him that happy, but she couldn’t, because at that same moment she realized she  _ loved _ her dad, she always had. And at midnight when he turned his bright happy gaze to her and reached for her, she knew that he still loved her too, and let him wrap her in his arms as he used to when she was small.

Lysander was already there when Lily got to her mum’s the following weekend. Her Uncle George was there too, to help them wire up the house so that they could install a Muggle theatre in the basement. He’d done it for the Malfoys just the year before.

“Well, what kind of cushions did they put in then?” Ginny asked her hands on her hips, surveying the room.

George shrugged. “Beats me.”

“That settles it,” Ginny said, rounding on Lily and Lysander, “You two are going to go to the Muggle movies to take notes.”

They ended up watching a movie about a team of Muggles who raced fast cars and jumped onto trucks to shoot their guns at other Muggles. Lily was impressed with how explosive everything was. Spells were always so neat, a little line of light and then you were dead, or all your bones were gone, or you’ve got bats flying out of your nostrils. But Muggle explosives — now  _ that _ was how Lily wanted to die. She reached over for the popcorn, eyes still glued to the screen, and blushed when her hand brushed Lysander’s. She did this a few times, even though she pretended she didn’t mean to.

In March she finally Portkey’d over to San Francisco. The entire city was an Anti-Apparition Zone, so from the Portkey station at the Ferry Building she took a cable car that dutifully climbed up and down hill after hill until finally, she found the purple-and-yellow victorian with her brother’s house number painted on in pink. She tried the knob and found it unlocked, so she walked in and took a set of stairs up to a long, dimly lit hallway. To the right was the living room, where two sofas were surrounding a fireplace. Lily stopped in front of the set of photographs taped up behind the sofa. There was one with all of them, at the Burrow. Even Draco Malfoy was there, although he was standing next to Astoria. Of the seven photos on the wall, Lily found herself four times and decided that it was adequate proof that her brothers still loved her.

She made her way further down the hall. The first room opened to a room whose two sides seemed to mirror each other down the middle. There were two narrow beds shoved up against opposite walls, with matching nightstands, and wardrobes, and bookcases. There was an open bag on the side to the left. The right looked untouched, as though it existed in the past. Lily sat on the bed and ran a finger down the nightstand, picking up a thick layer of dust on her finger. She spelt out “Lily”. And then she got up and opened the next door down the hall. 

Lily immediately sneezed. The room smelled like it hadn’t been aired out in months. James had said in the owl that there was a spare bedroom, but from a look around the room, it was obvious that the room was Scorpius’s. The room was wallpapered in a midnight blue with tiny twinkly constellations. He’d even hung up a portrait of his grandmother, to really drive the point through. 

Whatever had happened, it’d been unplanned, a rush. They hadn’t drifted apart; it had been a cleaving rift that separated her brothers and Scorpius. Lily hugged her arms around herself. She was worried about what she’d find in James when James returned.

James didn’t return for three days. 

On the fourth day, he caught her as she lugged her holdall down the steps. He hadn’t expected her to be there. He rushed up and picked up her holdall for her, moving to bring it inside the apartment.

“I’m on my way  _ out _ , not my way in,” Lily scowled, “I’ve already been at your place for  _ days _ . Where’ve you been?”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. When he did that he looked exactly like their dad. The two of them had always been a bit cotton-headed. 

Lily sighed. “You can tell me on the way to the Ferry Building. Come on, I can’t be late.”

They got on the 24 and took the bus down to Castro station, where they transferred to the F-car. The whole trip took about forty-five minutes, maybe an hour. With anyone else Lily would have been pissed off, screaming her head off at being abandoned for a trip she used precious vacation days to take, not to even mention the cost of the visa and the Portkey, just to be stood up, but she never could stay mad at James. It was partly because nothing anyone said ever really got to him. It was as though he floated above everyone else, too high up for mere mortal barbs to reach. Sometimes Lily thought he was the exact opposite of her. When he was angry, a little line would crease between his brows, but that would be it. When he was sad, maybe he’d look off to the distance, wistful. When he was happy, Lily felt it more than she saw or heard it, like a warm breeze, barely noticeable until it was gone.

It was gone now, she knew.

“I saw Scorpius at Dad’s holiday party,” Lily said. They’d taken two seats next to each other in the back.

“How is he?”

“Who? Dad or Scorpius?”

James shrugged. “Both, I guess.” He looked out the window. Lily could see his reflection in the glass, but she couldn’t read it.

“I know you haven’t spoken with either in a while.”

“Yeah,” James said. His breath fogged up the glass. “I wonder how long it’ll take before I forget what they look like.”

Lily swore. “You can’t mean that, Jamie. You’ll come back eventually.”

He turned back to her. “I met someone. His name’s David Vaunderand.”

“ _ What? _ Is that where you’ve been the last few days?”

“He’s an American. I met him at a bar after practice a few months back.”

“But what about  _ Scorpius? _ ” Lily blurted out. She didn’t know, no one told her, not explicitly anyway. But somehow at that moment, she knew without a doubt that her brother had loved — no,  _ loved _ Scorpius. Maybe it was in the way James said “I met someone,” and it wasn’t with half the warmth that he used to say, “Scorpius says eating bananas make you taller,” or “Scorpius says  _ Hogwarts, A History _ is the best book ever”, or “Scorpius says he’s coming over to Grimmauld for the hols”. Maybe it was Scorpius himself, leaving clues along the way. The melancholy lilt of his head over New Year’s, the way his room looked as though it were waiting for him to return to it.

“David is very nice,” James said, “His father owns a chocolate factory in the Mission. It’s called Dandelion. I think they have an outpost at the Ferry Building, you should bring some home if you’ve time before your Portkey. He tells me that it’s all very natural. I haven’t tried it. But I trust David.”

“Jamie. What. About.  _ Scorpius _ .” Lily could feel her old anger coursing through her again. Where James was cool she ran hot. She said things she didn’t mean. She showed twice as many emotions as she felt. Everything flowed through her twice as strong. She was a pot of simmering water, just waiting to boil over.

James shrugged. “Had to choose between him or Dad, didn’t I?”

“First of all, that’s disgusting,” Lily said, “Second of all, you say you’ve chosen Dad but it’s not like you’ve got him either. And third of all.” She stopped, choking around her words, sudden tears springing into her eyes. “Third of all,” she breathed, slow and evenly, “What about  _ me _ ? Why do  _ I _ have to be punished? Why do I have to lose two brothers and a dad while you bunch are mucking it up with the Malfoys?”

“I love you, Lily,” James said, soft and solemn.

“Jesus Christ, I hate you,” Lily declared. She wiped the snot from her nose. It was always like this with Dad, with James. Like just saying  _ I love you _ was enough to make up for months and months of no communication, like the reassurance that they could be there for her was enough to stop her from wondering when they  _ would _ be there for her.

“I’m not like you or Mum,” he whispered. “I won’t be able to give you everything you expect from me. But  _ do _ love you. In my own way. I hope you know that.”

Lily could never stay mad at James. “I hate you so much,” she sobbed and then turned into his chest. His arms stayed by his side. He wasn’t ever affectionate. He never really liked being touched. But he didn’t push her off either, and eventually, he raised a hand to the back of her head, and stroked her hair twice, before putting his hand back down.

And then they were at the Ferry Building.

“I got your postcard,” Lysander said in the kitchen the next morning, “Had a good time?”

It had been incredibly lonely, except for the last hour, where it’d been so emotionally intense that Lily spent the better part of the rest of yesterday crying. So really, it was like any family trip.

“It was alright,” she said. “Glad to be back. London is loads better. I’ve missed you.”

He choked into his coffee. “You missed me?” he blurted out.

“‘Course,” Lily smirked, “Nobody there for me to make fun of.”

“Right,” he sighed. “You going back to your mum’s tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, don’t skip out. I have a surprise for you.”

It turned out the surprise was Lily’s own Grandmum Molly.

“Lysander says you’ve been asking about your other grandmum. Now I know you don’t play favourites, so I’m not the least bit jealous, but you should’ve asked me ages ago!” Grandmum Molly chuckled. And then she pulled out a photo album, and walked through the photos with Lily. “There are my two brothers,” she pointed, “And there’s your other grandmum right next to them.”

Lily burst out sobbing.

“She was such a lovely woman,” Grandmum Molly sighed, caressing the back of Lily’s head, “Always had the funniest jokes. Even though they could be a bit crude at times.” She laughed. “She never was too good for a flatulence joke. I always thought you reminded me of her.”

“She,” Lily hiccupped, still crying, “She doesn’t have  _ freckles. _ ”

Afterwards, she and Lysander went out for a walk by the river. It was a beautiful spring day, the magnolias nearly blooming with possibilities. Lysander was going on about Lily’s mum again, the new concepts she’d been coming up with the other rooms, and Lily listened until she couldn’t anymore and blurted out, “Are you in love with her, or something?”

“Jesus, Lily, no! How can you be so utterly  _ stupid _ .”

“Well, I don’t know, she’s literally the only thing you’ve talked about for the last fifteen minutes —”

“How can you even  _ think _ that, after we’ve already — and then after, you’ve been  _ so _ cruel —”

“What?” After we’ve what?” she asked, her heart suddenly beating fast. That night, the one she couldn’t remember, nearly half a year back. That night, was it —

Lysander grabbed her by the arm and kissed her. He backed away quickly, as though bitten. “Do you remember anything now?”

“What, did you think I was some sort of amnesic Snow White? Of course, I still don’t bloody remember!”

“I just thought - Jesus, Lily, can you just give me a straight answer for once —”

“That was an awful kiss. And taken without consent.”

“Lily, I’m  _ sorry _ , I —”

Lysander was so kind. He wanted to spend time with Lily. He remembered what she cared about. He even talked to her grandmum for her, about her  _ other _ grandmum. And he was so  _ expressive _ , maybe not so with words but at least he got mad enough to get it when Lily got mad too, at least he talked back at her, at least he didn’t just  _ leave _ .

She lunged at him, toppling into his arms. He tilted his head down to her, and kissed her properly, for maybe five or so minutes, with a little bit of tongue. It was a good kiss. Lily would put it in her top five. Probably better than whatever her dad was getting from Draco Malfoy. Which was —  _ ew _ . Why did Lily even think that? There were better things to think about, like Lysander’s soft mouth, the way he smelled like the woody scent of broomstick handle, or his arms, coming up around Lily, pulling her close and safe.

They pulled away, hands clasped, and walked the rest of the way back to Grimmauld.

That night, Lily stood in front of her mirror and looked at herself. She had red hair. There was a smattering of freckles beneath her eyes. And her eyes were green. Maybe in twenty years she’d look in the mirror and see her mum. Maybe in forty, she’d see her Grandmother, the one who’d died. But tonight, all she saw was herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since writing [Dead Ringer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26254732), I wanted to write something from Lily's perspective. I could imagine her feeling really lonely since James and Albus both escaped to California! Honestly before writing this I didn't even know Lysander _existed_ , I had to google him. I also had to look up the [Weasley family tree](https://hogwarts-the-next-generation.fandom.com/wiki/Weasley_Family_Tree). There are twelve cousins alone!!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this, even though this is probably the least popular Harry Potter pairing ever hahaha. Thank you for reading! 💛
> 
> You can find me on [dw](https://fwooshy.dreamwidth.org/) and [tumblr](https://fw00shy.tumblr.com/).


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